


Not our end (just a beginning)

by Sevi007



Series: Lucid Dreaming [6]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Aftermath, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Set right after DMC5, They all deserve a goddamn break, happy endings, no spoilers as far as i know, purely wishful thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 07:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevi007/pseuds/Sevi007
Summary: It is over, their biggest gig done, the world is still here…They are still here. That knowledge might take a bit longer to really set in. But time they have now, lots of it.Because this is no end - this is a new beginning.





	Not our end (just a beginning)

**Author's Note:**

> For all the people like me who just refuse to believe those characters deserve anything else than a Happy Ending (or Happy Beginnings) at the end of DMC5. 
> 
> Set IMMEDIATELY at the end of DMC5 - or how I HOPE it ends - no spoilers as far as I can tell, since it's completely self-indulgent.

###  _**“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”** _

### — _Seneca_

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A bump in the road made the whole car jump as the wheel caught on it.

 

The unexpected motion made Morrison bite his tongue hard enough he tasted iron. He muffled the curse that wanted to follow with gritted teeth. He deserved the pain, welcomed it nearly – it would keep him from nodding off like he had been about to, before that little wholesome shock.

 

Straightening and shaking his head to get rid of the threads of sleep sneaking up on him, he squinted out the windshield. The light of dawn illuminating was both blessing and curse for his eyes; welcomed because it was damn nice to know they had lived to see another day, but goddamn awful for his tired eyes to _see_ something in while he drove them home.

Determining that they were still on track, Morrison relaxed slightly, even though his grip around the steering wheel stayed tight like a vice. Something, _anything_ to ground him and not drift off again.  

He had precious cargo to see safely home, after all.

 

The thought brought a fond smile to his lips as he dared to lift one hand to the rearview mirror, adjusting it just so that it would catch most of the backseat in it. A quick look onto the road – still empty, too early for many people to be out and about as it was – before he allowed himself to really _look_ at the snoring pile in the back of his car.

How all three of them had even fit back there… well, nobody was quite sure how they had managed _that_ particular feat, but they were all too tired and relieved to really question it. Too glad to still _have_ each other, and eager to make sure if it all was _real_ by touching, feeling, _holding on_ as if the respective other would slip away if they weren’t careful. Falling asleep on top of each other, curled into the others that it wasn’t sure where one began and the other ended, had seemed the most natural of solutions.

 

Dante took the middle of it all, arms thrown out along the backrest, legs stretched as much as it was possible in the cramped car. His chin was resting on the crown of Lady’s head, one arm wrapped around Trish, breathing slow and even. Trish had laid her head against his upper arm, one arm around Lady’s shoulders, the hand gripping tightly at Dante’s coat. Lady had tucked herself against Dante’s chest, fingers linked with those of Trish’s free hand, leg half-thrown over Dante’s lap so she could get closer to the both of them.

Neither of them had so much as moved since the engine had been started. Fallen asleep the moment they had hit the road, exhaustion dragging them under, the rumbling of the old car the strangest lullaby for them. Morrison hadn’t had the heart to wake them to get at least their seatbelts fastened, instead opting to drive as slow as he could bring himself to. Even though everything in him screamed to get home and simply _collapse_ and sleep a hundred years after this fiasco of a night…

 

 _I will be damned if those kids don’t get some sleep under my watch,_ he mused with a half-smile, gaze flicking to the road and back to the mirror. Taking note of the bruises all down Lady’s arms and the leg visible to him. The cuts and burns only slowly fading from Trish’s pale skin. The slow drip of blood still running down Dante’s temple when it usually would have healed in a blink.

Still gruesome. Still heartbreaking.

Yet it looked better than the night before, so much better…

 

(- _the sight of Trish, unable to get up again by her own efforts even after Dante had freed her, the strong woman brought to her knees -)_

( _\- the sickening_ sound _with which Lady had hit the ground before any of them had been able to reach her –_ )

( _\- Dante turning and_ waving _as if to say_ goodbye _and the charring realization had set in that he_ didn’t think he would come back _, would never come back_ home _-_ )

 

(- _screaming, yelling, cursing, the black mass dragging all of them under_ -)

 

… it looked so, so, _so much_ better right now.

But still. _Still_.

Sighing soundlessly, Morrison vowed to take a detour to the nearest pharmacy and produce some supplies to bring over to the shop before going home for some sleep himself.

Perhaps he would just crash at the shop, he mused with another quick look into the mirror. Just, today. The idea of staying close right now, being able to _see_ they were still here, was _very_ tempting.

 

Fiddling with the radio, Morrison tried to find some music his tired mind could focus on so he wouldn’t have to recall more things from last night. The speaker crackled once, sharply, as he turned the volume up a tiny bit. Damn thing had been making static noise for a while now and it was driving him crazy –

A clear, strong note trickled out of the speakers, a piano starting to play. No disturbing noise behind it, catching Morrison by surprise.

Oh, well. If it decided to work properly again now, he would take it without questioning it.

 

_“… In the field so green and so free, seeds gaze up… “_

 

Deeming the volume low enough to now wake his sleeping friends, Morrion allowed himself to relax for a beat, let the music wash over him and drive away the last memories of a horrible night.

Out of sheer reflex, he checked the rearview again to see if everything was still alright back there.

 

Only to have bright blue eyes reflected at him, piercing and very much _awake,_ instead of the sleeping faces he had counted on.

 

It was so sudden and unexpected that Morrison _jumped_ in his seat, swearing loudly when the car swerved to the right. He hit the brakes, _hard,_ heart in his throat, glad they were creeping along at such a slow pace that the stop was nearly smooth.

By the time they come to a halt, he had already started to turn, ignoring the seatbelt biting into his chest in favor of moving to touch whatever of Dante he could reach. Which in this case turned out to be a knee, almost right next to his own seat ( _lord, kid, why you had to grow some damn **tall** ) _and he gripped it, squeezing gently to provide an anchor.

He thought he _knew_ what empty, disoriented look he would find in Dante’s eyes if he looked close enough now. Had seen something similar many a time whenever the other actually feel asleep for once and started out of a nightmare.

_And hadn’t this day been a nightmare in the flesh for all of them?_

“Dante,” Morrison said, hoping his voice came out stronger than he felt right then, “Hey, kiddo, it’s okay. It’s _okay_.”

 

It wasn’t clear which one did it, the grounding touch or the comforting words, but Dante blinked slowly, as if surfacing from deep waters. Movements still slow and sluggish, he stared blankly at Morrison for a second, then turned to look out the window and the new day just starting beyond it. Turned the other way to watch his friends sleeping as they were, all but wrapped around him. Paused there for a beat or two, seemingly soaking the sight in.

A small frown appeared between Dante’s eyebrows while he moved his lips without sound, as if mouthing along to the lyrics of the song still playing, before his features went slack, a sense of _peace_ seemingly washing over the man.

“I know.”

 

Morrison could only watch, astonished, as Dante finally looked up and met his gaze – and smiled. Not the smirk he put on like a mask, a weapon to wield, when he usually snapped out of a nightmare (real _and_ dreamt up ones), but a real, honest _smile_. Brighter than the dawn outside, stretching from ear to ear, making him look _boyish_ in a way Morrison hadn’t seen in ages. If ever.

“ _I know_ ”, Dante repeated, looking almost _surprised_ , but ultimately delighted about that discovery. “I know it is.”

Even still dumbfounded, still caught wrong-footed, Morrison couldn’t help but smile back, all tension bleeding out of him as he thought he understood what this was about. “Yeah. ‘Course you do.”

 

Dante hummed agreeably, nodding along – or nodding _off,_ Morrison realized, sleep that had not fully let the younger go dragging him back under, head tilting to the side as it got too heavy for him to keep it upright. With a low murmur, Dante shifted, slipping lower in the seat. Getting comfortable again.

Deeming this little moment over, Morrison chuckled, hearing an answering little sound of contentment from behind him. He turned around to start the car again, busying himself with keys and wheel to give the kids a modicum of privacy.

 

He could have sworn he saw Dante press a kiss to the top of Lady’s head, then Trish’s temple, out of the corner of his eyes. He didn’t turn to check, grinning to himself.

 

By the time he had turned the engines up again, Dante had fallen asleep again, a small smile playing around his lips.

Morrison was smiling himself as he pulled the wheel around, bringing them back into the middle of the road.

 _Thank you,_ he thought, fervently. He wasn’t a religious man, had not been for a long, long time, but right now, he felt that if _anything_ out there had a helping hand in getting them all back safe and sound, whole and sane and _together,_ then it deserved a bit gratitude. _Thank you so much._

 

Next to him, the music swelled up one more time, hitting a note that seemed to send warmth spreading through him, soothing and empowering at the same time.

 

_“… But still, the fragile seeds wait long for the sun to shine…”_

 

For the first time since that cursed day had started, Morrison thought that at least their personal little world would be just fine.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Only once the car in front of them started its engines again and slowly started to drive ahead again did Nico dare to breathe again, the oxygen she had sucked in sharply at the abrupt stop she had had to pull leaving her in a great rush.

_Dammit, Morrison, gave me a heart attack._

She answered the blinking of taillight in front of her with a flash of the van’s own headlights, calming her racing heart stubbornly. A mantra on repeat in her head, ever since they had shepherded each other into the two cars, stumbling and swaying, and it had _finally_ trickled into her consciousness that everyone was still _there._

 

(- _It’s alright we’re alright we’re_ **safe** _-)_

 

It took her two, three more heartbeats to let go of the gun beneath the console. Directing her hand back to the wheel and _driving_ instead of jumping out of the van and go take a look at what was wrong. Starting the engine again and let the van roll back onto track, her movements mechanical and mantra pulsing in her mind like a heartbeat.

 

(- _we’re safe we’re safe_ **_we’re safe-_** )

 

“Nico?”

The hoarse voice in her back was like a steadying hand to her back. A smirk curved her lips up even though she felt still closer to screaming than smiling. “’S alright, hon, we good.”

There was a hissing noise that she had grown used to, Red Queen’s revving sounding as tired as her owner, sputtering and going out. Still, Nero tried to quip, “Thought you finally got us into an accident.”

“Oi, you can drive your ass home yourself if you keep that up”, Nico gave back, feeling some of the pressure in her chest lift.

“Would be safer, with your driving style.”

“Ain’t above making you _walk_ back, you punk.”

There was a quiet laugh, followed by an even quieter cough and a whispered curse. Nico’s heart stuttered in her chest without her say so ( _and dammit, when had she started to care for all of them so deeply without noticing it, now it seemed all too late_ ) and she threw a glance over her shoulder to check in on them.

 

Nero shook his head at her as he caught her gaze, still whipping his mouth with the back of his hand. The corners of his mouth turned down and the frown etched between his eyebrows his own brand of _I’m fine, honest_ , that she had come to know _._ Sitting slumped against the wall, coat discarded and weapons strewn out next to himself, Nico had the distinct feeling that the only thing keeping him awake right now was his weird sense of _duty._ That weird, self-proclaimed duty of keeping watch over the other man who lay on the little folding cot put up against the opposite wall.

 

V was still asleep – _asleep_ , not _unconscious_ anymore, Nico reminded herself stubbornly – looking even paler than usual. Hair a sickly greyish with the ink bled out of it, chest rising and falling minutely with each swallow breath, shadows under his eyes darker than any tattoo remaining on his skin.

Next to him lay Shadow, curled up against his side even though the cot provided little space for one person, even less for a big cat on top of it, but that hadn’t gotten the familiar to back off. The rumbling purr, close to a growl, vibrated through the tiny furniture and filled the space in the back of the van. Even Griffon had given up on fluttering around the tiny space with his gigantic wings hitting the walls left and right and sat next to V’s shoulder now, head tucked under one wing and seemingly asleep.

Nightmare was nowhere to be seen, but Nico could have sworn she had seen the few tattoos still etched onto V’s skin _move_ , almost frantically, whisper-quiet and liquid-fluid, as if the demon was somehow staying behind to remedy whatever damage V had done to his own body.

 

Nico was pretty sure V would wake up to a nice tongue lashing from his familiars about _staying safe_ and _taking care,_ all wrapped up in insults and sharp words. If he was really lucky, their relief would at least take the sharpest edges off.

She would happily provide some of her _own_ well-chosen words on that matter. The sight of the slumped, shivering body Nero had brought back, more carrying him over his shoulder than anything else at that point, had sent a rippled of icy shock through the mechanic that had knocked all air out of her.

No way _wouldn’t_ she kick his ass over scaring them near senseless.

 

 _Those guys will be the death of me,_ she decided, shaking her head over it with a quiet snort while she turned back around. Hands still shivering on the wheel, heart still beating too fast and too close to her throat. _Ain’t gonna be no demons killing me, just worry._

 

A sound sunk through her grumbling thoughts, too clear and pure to stem from the car’s engine or the purring demon cat in her back.

_Music?_

For a moment, Nico thought Nero had actually decided to call Kyrie, and that the girl was singing him a lullaby. Then she immediately shook her head, amused at herself, because the thought was just _that_ farfetched.

(As if he would call her _now_ , _before_ he could hold her into his arms again and assure her he was alright, that they _all_ were.)

 

The sound came from the radio, even though she could have sworn she had turned the thing down after the news had started to repeat itself ( _“- Redgrave City reportedly free of the mist that has been-“, “-news of the last demons vanishing-“, “-survivors tell stories about the hunters that saved-“),_ making her anxious and tired of that bullshit _._

But there it was, the music clear without being loud, the voice soothing yet strong and seemingly only _growing_ in passion with every passing second, albeit it never changed in volume.

 

_“… Dark winter away, come spring._

_My young seeds once again will look up to the sky,…”_

 

The pressure in Nico’s chest started to ease gradually, and she took a deep breath. And another. And another. Heartbeat calming down slowly as warmth spread through her.

 

(- _we’re safe_ -)

 

They were gonna be alright, weren’t they? After all this, still.

An incredulous little laugh bubbled up her throat, and to her utter astonishment – and no little embarrassment, _pull yourself together, girl –_ she felt tears well up in her eyes. Relief, stress, residue fear, she wasn’t sure.

_God, we all need a damn break._

Sniffling quietly, chuckling to herself, Nico raised one hand to rub vigorously at her eyes. “Hey, Nero, you know what? We deserve a vacation. I’m thinking, like, two years, maybe three.”

The expected annoyed reply didn’t come. Instead, there was a pause, as if he was _actually considering it._ Then, Nero asked with a voice too quiet and too tired, “Where would we go on vacation?”

Caught wrong-footed, Nico blinked for a second, nearly asking him if he was serious. Thought better of it – _could all need some distraction –_ and shrugged. “Eh. Somewhere with no work. Deserted island? Different continent? _Oh_ , the _beach!”_

Suddenly, this game seemed a lot more interesting as Nico considered it. The beach wasn’t…

“The beach, huh?” Nero’s voice seemed to grow stronger as he talked, a smile in his words. “That sounds okay, actually.”

“The beach it is,” Nico confirmed, grinning. “Let’s all go to the beach. Pina Coladas are on me.”

 

“… I have never been to the beach.”

 

The voice was so quiet and soft, Nico thought for a second she had only imagined it, a trick of the music and her exhaustion and sheer wishful thinking. Until she saw Nero’s eyes snap open, gaze flicking over to the crowded cot.

A wide smile stretched all over her face as relief flooded her.

_Welcome back, sleeping beauty._

 

“How the fuck,” Nero said, no heat in his words, only a twinkle in his eyes and a smile threatening to tick the corner of his mouth up, “have you never been to the _beach_ before, V?”

A pause, then a quiet, breathy chuckle. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

The smile broke out over Nero’s face fully, softening the harsh lines exhaustion had left there. “Know what? We’re taking you.”

“Hmmmm?”

“To the beach. Can’t have you never see a damn beach in your life, so we’re taking you.”

“ _Now?_ ”

The question was such a mixture of clear surprise and a tiny bit intrigue, it made Nico laugh out loud, the sound bubbling out of her mouth so unexpectedly that she was surprised by it herself.

 

“Not _now,_ dude-… what, you’re basically dying over there, why would we-…”

“I am not _dying_ -…”

“Oh sure, stop looking like a _corpse_ then-…”

“… Why, thank you.”

Nico shook her head with a silent groan, grin in place, as the bickering started up seamlessly behind her.

 

But it… it didn’t sound too bad, right? The beach. When had she last been there? She could recall it: Easier days, _normal_ days where the world hadn’t nearly ended, when her Mamma had taken her there. The crashing of waves and the feeling of sand beneath her bare feet, laughter in the air.

It didn’t sound bad at all, if she was being honest. She had said so herself, they _deserved_ a vacation. And the idea was taking hold, now that Nero had thrown it out there so casually.

 

Twisting in her seat, Nico called over her shoulder. “We taking Kyrie and the kids to the beach, too? Can’t leave ‘em out now.”

“Eyes on the _street_ ,” Nero warned absentmindedly, looking up from his half-hearted argument with V. He seemed interested, she could tell, even though it had been said jokingly at first. And so the smile twitching around his lips a second later was no surprise to her. “’Course we’re taking them. Kyrie likes the beach. And the kids will love it.”

“Means we have enough people for beach volley,” Nico offered, earning a snorted laugh before he answered, “You mean we have to buy enough ice cream we’re gonna be poor afterwards.”

“Oof, the kids are gonna get tummy aches.”

“Why the kids? I meant Dante.”

Nico _cackled_ at that, hearing Nero join in with quiet laughter. “Oh, this is gonna be _great_. Hey, V, you’re gonna like the beach, I bet. The sand gets fuckin’ everywhere, but loads of fun anyway.”

 

“Aaaaah,” it sounded like half a sigh, half a laugh. V’s eyes fluttered open, heavy still, but his gaze clear and sharp and _glinting_ with mirth as he glanced over at the other to the best of his abilities. “ _To see a World in a Grain of Sand_ …”

“Look, if you can _quote_ again, I’m _done_ believing you’re feeling anything but great”, Nero pointed out. He had likely aimed for annoyed, or exasperated, but there was a lopsided grin stretching over his face as he watched V chuckle, ruining all pretense.

“Don’t encourage him,” Shadow rumbled without even opening an eye, lifting one giant paw to rest heavily on V’s chest and press him back onto the cot. The air left the poor man with a silent _Oooof_ before he cracked a tiny smile over it. “Tell him he’s feeling better and he will try to _get_ _up_ again.”

“Don’t worry. Gonna knock him out again if he tries.”

“Oh, _good_.”

“Or,” a croaking voice offered, muffled still by feathers. Griffon blinked around his wing with one gleaming red eye, sounding drowsy still, “ _I_ could knock _all of_ _you_ out so I get some sleep and quiet.”

“Griffon,” V mumbled, eyes fluttering closed as sleep crept back up on him.

“What, Shakespeare? Go to sleep, you shouldn’t even be-…”

“You know, I think we will like the beach.”

 

Nico looked back just in time to witness the miracle of Griffon actually snapping his beak shut again without a scathing comment. Head tilting a little bit as he watched V succumb to sleep.

It was hard to tell, feathers and beak and all, but Nico would have bet one of her priced designs that there was a tiny smile flickering over the demon bird’s face, before he sighed deeply, tucking his head back under his wing with a last, grumbled, “Yeah, V. We just might.”

 

This time, when Nico turned around and discreetly whipped over her not-so-dry eyes, she was fairly sure that all she felt right then was _happiness._

This was going to be great.

 

(- _We’re **safe** , we’re **here**. _

Everything is alright.)

 

 _They_ were going to be great.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ D ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_“… My young seeds once again will look up to the sky,_

_And I know they will grow strong.“_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Some little notes: 
> 
> * Imagine the song "Seeds of love" from DMC1 playing in the background of all of this. And yes, imagine Eva singing it. Because her family, now, is finally, finally save in this one, and she's just as relieved about it as everyone else is. 
> 
> * The quote "To see the World in a Grain of Sand" V throws out there is from William Blake's "Auguries of Innocence". I was looking through some poetry while I was writing this fic and this was so hilariously on point (I found the "Auguries" right when I had Nico talk about sand getting everywhere) that I had to use it. It's too good. It's too in-character for V. XD 
> 
> * V is going to be fine, in this series at least, no matter what Capcom might have to say about that. They all are going to be fine.


End file.
